Waves Of Secrets
by ShippingOrange
Summary: Sherlock and John survived everything: Sherlocks fall, people that are curious how Sherlock faked his death and other things like murderous cases. But why is Sherlock so silent every time a question about his family pops up? Why is Sherlock so secretive when he goes out for a walk or hides himself in the bathroom? John wants answers, but they are harder to find. 1st: Because of Sh
1. Chapter 1: Searching

Chapter 1: Searching

The city was like water and fire, earth and wind, full of life. Always twisting, spinning, turning, like a ticking clock. London, always alive, never asleep.

It was a cold day, the waves of the Thames were brutal, wind blowing in their faces. "Sherlock, what are we doing here? Really, what?" John Watson looked at the face of his flat mate, his eyes were the same as the Thames, like a restless river of blue waves.  
"I need to find it John."  
"You've been saying that for the last two hours! What do you need to find Sherlock?"  
Sherlock sighed, "I can't tell you John, at least not yet."  
It was a quarter past midnight and John Watson was standing with his best friend and flat mate Sherlock Holmes at the pier of the Battersea Power station.  
"Ok, fine. When you are ready to tell me what's so important, you know where to find me. I'm going home."

* * *

When John was at home, he decided to make himself a nice cup of tea. His shoulder ached like hell and a cup of tea combined with a nice warm bed were the exact things he needed.  
When his tea was ready he looked outside: It was raining, Sherlock was still outside. Well, better make an extra cup for when he comes home.  
He walked to the kitchen, and took an extra cup out of the cupboard.  
Then he heard the door, and footsteps on the stairs. "Sherlock, is that you?"  
"John?" Sherlock's voice sounded stressed.  
The door slammed open and Sherlock walked in a fast pace towards the bathroom.  
"Sherlock? Is something wrong?"  
Sherlock ignored him… Sherlock ignored him, nothing special; the only thing that was different was the panicked look on Sherlock's face.

John ignored his tea, with his face full of concern he approached Sherlock.  
"Sherlock?"  
"I'm fine John."  
There was a warning in Sherlock's voice. Was he scared? There was something in Sherlock's neck, his scarf almost hid it, but it looked green and it was bleeding.  
"Sherlock, what's that in your neck?" John reached out to remove the scarf, but Sherlock grabbed his hand. Sherlock looked at him. Their eyes met each other and John stared into orbs of ice.  
"I said I'm fine." Sherlock's deep voice shuddered through his body.  
John tugged his hand free. "Sherlock if something's wrong, I want to help you."  
"I'm fine John, the only thing I need is a bath."  
Sherlock looked threatened and sad. John knew that look; it was the same look he had on the roof of St. Barts. It was the same look he had when he returned to John alive and well, scared about John's reaction. John wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to ruffle his hair. He wanted to kiss him, tell him everything was fine.  
When he retreated from his thoughts, Sherlock had left the room.

What was wrong with him? He was not in love with his flat mate! Sherlock was his best friend, and John was a straight man! He loved women, not men!  
But every time he saw Sherlock, heard his voice. It was like being under a spell.  
Sherlock would hate him if he knew the truth about John's feelings.  
He walked towards the bad room and rested his head on the door.  
He could hear the water in the tub  
"Sherlock?"  
No answer.  
"Sherlock, your cup of tea is on the kitchen table."  
Still no answer.  
"Ok, I'm going to bed."  
With a sigh, he went upstairs, changed his clothes to pyjamas and tugged himself under the blankets.

It was night in the never sleeping city. At 221B Baker Street John was dreaming about Afghanistan. Sherlock could hear his moans and cries resonate through the water. He should be there with John. Hug him and tell him everything is all right, but instead he was in the bad tub, he looked down at his body with disgust. The only thing he wanted was to be human, but he couldn't!  
With every dull drop of rain or water splash his body decided to transform.  
Today, John almost saw his true form. John would hate him if he discovered the truth about him.  
There was a serial killer on the loose. Three bodies were found, and it couldn't be a coincidence that they were of his kind. Someone knew it, and the only thing he could do was find the bastard before humanity would know about his kind. He had to find him, so that his life with John would return back to normal.


	2. Chapter 2: Memories

Chapter 2: Memories

Early in the morning John jumped out of his bed, the sound of a dying cat was resonating through the walls. "Sherlock!" That bloody violin! With an angry face he ran downstairs and banged into the room. "Sherlock, it's 6 am! Go back to sleep"

"Boring"

"What? Sher... You know what, I don't care. I don't care that you ignore me, I don't care that you think sleeping is boring, but I want to sleep! I care that I'm thinking about you all night long, because you looked so lost and upset. I care that whatever it is, you hide it from me, that you don't trust me."  
Sherlock looked offended at John. "What has the violin to do with last night?"  
John sighed "Nothing, I just want to sleep for a few ours ok."  
John studied Sherlock. He looked lost.  
Sherlock's stormy eyes peered at him with suspicion.  
John cleared his throat. "Off to bed… right."

* * *

Sherlock put his violin back on its stand and looked absently through the window. It was still raining, and it was tedious. Rain was the thing that could wipe away crucial evidence from cases. Rain was one of the things that could reveal his true form.

Sherlock closed his eyes, wandering in his mind palace, searching for long forgotten memories. They were still in his mind palace; he just didn't want to acknowledge them.  
He had forgotten the memories for a long time, they came back when his powers started to develop.

He was five years and he was alone on the beach, a little naked child playing with shells in the sand.  
A man and a woman walked towards him. "Are you lost?"  
The little Sherlock looked at them with a confused look.  
The woman kneeled before him. "Where are your parents?"  
He pointed his finger to the sea "there"  
"You mean that they are in the sea?"  
Sherlock nodded. "Is that weird?"  
The woman smiled and looked with concern to the man. "It depends" she said.  
"I don't see any swimmers in the water."  
"Oh miss" Sherlock rolled with his eyes. "They live there."  
"They live in the water?" The woman took one of his shells. "Do you want to join us? We are going for a walk, searching for shells. Our son Mycroft would love it to get some shells when we are back."  
Sherlock gave the woman one of his shells. "You can have mine, there are plenty enough in the sea."  
"Do you want to come with us?" the man asked, it was the first time he said something.  
Sherlock studied the couple with his piercing stormy eyes. "I'm good here."  
"Ok, but we really need your help…"  
"Sherlock"  
"Ok Sherlock, do you want to search for shells?"  
"No, searching is dull, but If you can't search without my help I will join you."

He followed the man and the woman… and when he left the sea, he forgot everything.  
With the case of his missing parents Siger and Violet Holmes contacted the police and child focus to find the parents of the young Sherlock.  
Weeks of searching became months and months became years.  
Sherlock was a bright child, he had a special gift to deduce and solve problems. His parents laughed often with the idea that he should become a detective.  
He knew that his parents were proud of him, and sometimes he could feel the jealous looks of his elder brother piercing in his back.

Everything was great, he had a nice foster family, he had good grades at school, but there was a weird feeling. Like something was missing.  
Then it was his tenth birthday. Sherlock Holmes was playing outside, it was raining, and the air was tense with clouds. He snuggled deeper into his coat. He had no friends at school, so he had to play pirate alone, but then he could be captain. Captain Sherlock Holmes, yes… he liked the idea.  
"Sherlock, come inside it's freezing, and you will get wet." He ignored his mother's voice. Yes, it was the 6th of January, but that was no reason to stay inside!  
"Sherlock!"  
Raindrops fell on his skin. A wave of nausea reached flowed through his body. He clenched himself on a tree branch.  
"Sherlock! Come inside, it's raining! You will get sick." But the voice of his mother was far away.  
The only thing that mattered were his legs, because now they were gone, and a gray blue tail had appeared in their place.

What felt like hours only could be minutes. His mother tugged him gently into a blanket and brought him inside. Silent tears were flowing over her cheeks.  
She hugged him "Everything will be ok."  
Sherlock was crying to, the only thing he wanted to do was to sleep. To sleep so that he could forget all the forgotten memories that where coming back. The memories of his other life. The memories of the sea.


	3. Chapter 3: Family

Chapter 3: Family

Notes:

The 3rd chapter of waves of secrets :).

* * *

Sherlock was lost in his memories when his phone went off.

A text from Lestrade… another victim.  
Should he call John? No, John would ask more questions.  
In silence he put his coat on, walked to John's room and opened the door a little. John was sleeping with a peaceful smile on his lips. "If I could tell you… but I can't, I really wished you could find it out."

When Sherlock was eighteen, he returned with his parents to the see… the place where they had found him.  
His mother gave him a hug. "Just be careful ok? Maybe your family lives there, but if they don't..." His mother swallowed.  
"I can do this mum, I'm coming back!"

He removed all his clothes and stepped into the ocean, he closed his eyes and let the transformation come. It was easier to transform without his clothes. He didn't know where they went when he transformed, but he knew it was more painful, and harder.  
When he was fully transformed he dived under water.  
He looked at his tail, icy blue grey, just like his eyes or the sea at a stormy day.  
With the childhood memories in his head he started to swim.  
After hours he saw something, merpeople were swimming in and out a village.  
Should he swim inside? He was a merman…  
He passed a few merpeople, the man and women looked a lot like him. Dark wavy hair, stormy eyes and blue grey tales.

He smiled at a few people. What was he doing? Where was the house of his real parents? It was here somewhere. He was swimming past the village guards when he felt something sting against his back.  
The merpeople around him had stopped swimming and looked with interest at him.  
"Identify yourself!" the guard said.  
"My name is Sherlock Holmes."  
A few whispers resonated through the water. "Sherlock? – He is dead… eaten by humans. – No?"  
"Who are you? Don't lie to me boy!"  
"My name is Sherlock, Holmes is the name my foster parents gave me."  
Sherlock turned around to face the guard; their stormy eyes met each other.  
Sherlock was surprised by the look in the guard's eyes.  
"Sherlock?" the guard asked.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe? Why is everybody so stupid? Didn't you get it from the first time? MY NAME IS SHERLOCK!"

A sad smile appeared on the guard's face. "It is you, you were little when you went missing."  
"Do you know where my family lives?"  
The guard tucked his head. "They are dead, I'm the only surviving member of your family."  
"Really?"  
"Really Sherlock, I'm your cousin, and it's better that you leave this place. Your parents were executed when they lost you, I was to young… but the tribe thought it was their fault for losing you. They gave you to the humans! They almost exposed us"  
"They didn't! I was bored, I just wanted to see the human world."  
The look on his cousin's face turned from happiness to anger. "Then it's your fault Sherlock Holmes! Go back to the human world, because you are worse than any human!"  
Sherlock held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Wait, I can explain…"  
His cousin's hand was touching his lips. "You shall never speak about us, and you shall never speak about what you are. You can talk about what you are to the people that know your secret, but if they tell your secret to others: You shall die a painful death."  
His cousin led him out of the village. "It's for the best Sherlock, you can't stay here because your mind is corrupted by humans, but they will love you, hate you or kill you if they find out what you are. That's why I'm sealing your lips. Go Sherlock Holmes, and never come back."

The memory faded away, Sherlock gave an unhappy sigh and closed the door of John's room. There was a case waiting.


	4. Chapter 4: Murder

Chapter 4: Murder

John woke up, his mind still clouded with his own ghosts.  
Sherlock? Right Sherlock... What was wrong with Sherlock? He tried to ask it, but Sherlock didn't answer… well that was not new, Sherlock had his secrets, people had secrets, but Sherlock was not just people. Sherlock was his best friend, his flatmate, he loved Sherlock, and if there was something wrong with him…

John tried to focus… Sherlock. Why was it so quit? There was never peace at 221B.  
John got up in a hurry and walked out the room, as fast as he could he ran downstairs. "Sherlock?" The living room was empty, when he entered the kitchen, Sherlock's cup of tea was still on the table.  
Panic rose up in his throat. "Sherlock!"  
Sherlock wouldn't jump again… wouldn't he? Ok it was just a trick, but those three years without Sherlock were still hidden in his nightmares, his darkest fears.  
He tried to calm down when he thought of his mobile, it was still in the right pocket of his trousers.  
He tried not to run to the bathroom, he would send a text to Sherlock, and everything would be fine.

The bathroom looked like a mess when he entered, the floor looked like a swimming pool and his trousers were soaked with water. John was panicking when he took the mobile phone out of the right pocket, and by wonder it looked untouched, it was a little damp but he survive the water.

_'Sherlock where are you? I'm concerned, please answer me.'_

After an eternity, Sherlock answered.

_'Another murder, Lestrade needed my help. I wanted to let you sleep, you looked tired. I'll be home in twenty minutes, no need to come after me. SH-'_

He couldn't believe it, Sherlock went to a case without him… They were partners! Why?

* * *

Sherlock looked at the body, it was a fresh murder and one of his kind.  
The body was dry and violated, there were missing parts at the neck of the women, at the places where her gills had been.  
Her legs were gone, the only thing left was her naked upper body.

"Lestrade!" The Chief inspector looked up.  
"Surprise me Sherlock, who could do something like this." Lestrade looked concerned, he looked older. Normally Sherlock wouldn't care about it, but he could see that he had a lot of sleepless nights, just like John.  
When he thought of John, he always fell a pang of guilt, John deserved better.

He started to walk around the body in circles.  
"It's a serial killer, the three victims were all missing the same parts, legs and pieces in their necks. The fourth victim has the same parts removed so serial killer."

Lestrade looked confused at Sherlock. "Legs and parts of their necks, why?"  
"Isn't that clear!" Sherlock shouted. "Because the guy is bored, or he has a weird obsession… but to be true I think of experiments. The cuts are not from a butcher knife, no they are from a surgical knife, so a doctor or a professor.  
A catling is a knife used for amputations that explains how the legs are removed; a scalpel is a thin straight surgical knife that is used for dissection and surgery. That is the knife that made the cuts in the necks of the victims.  
Lestrade, try to contact the factories that produce and export catlings and scalpels.  
I want a list of their buyers, our killer can be one of them."

He jumped when his phone made a sound.  
It was a message from John, John who he left at the flat, John who would be angry that he left without him.  
John that wanted to know his secret… John that he loved wanted to kiss and John that would hate him if he did.  
He wanted to tell John, but how? He had the feeling that he was pushing him away, right now John was concerned, but John could leave him.  
He had to solve this case and be done with it. If he solved this case their lives could be normal again.

He replied to John's message:  
_'Another murder, Lestrade needed my help. I wanted to let you sleep, you looked tired. I'll be home in twenty minutes, no need to come after me. SH-'_


	5. Chapter 5: I don't know what's wrong

Chapter 5: I know what's wrong

Notes:

This chapter is also un-Beta'd, thanks for reading :)... and I'm evil xp.

* * *

Sherlock opened the door of 221B, carefully he listened if he could hear John.

John was gone. He wandered through the empty flat, thinking about his best friend. There had to be a way to explain John what he was. He closed his eyes, and massaged his temples, why was this so hard? He didn't want to die, the stupid curse, if the curse wasn't there…  
Silent footsteps behind him, made him spin around.  
"You're back." John's face looked sad  
Sherlock swallowed. "John I…"  
John made a stopping gesture. "Sherlock, I know why you've been acting like this, and after this morning… well. I'm sorry Sherlock, I should have known."  
John said everything in a whisper, like he was afraid.  
So John had known? "John I'm glad that you've found it out, I didn't know how to tell you."  
A sad smile appeared on John's face. "Sherlock, don't… I know how hard this must have been for you, and I don't want to get in your way."  
Sherlock didn't understand it, what did John want to say?  
John took Sherlock face in his hands.  
"I'm leaving Sherlock. You clearly have some problems with me, I've already packed my stuff.  
I don't want to be here when you don't want me here."

"John I… I can explain, please!"  
Outside they could hear a car horn.  
"My cab is there Sherlock, I should be going."  
John came closer and placed a small kiss on Sherlock's lips. Sherlock's heart fluttered, he closed his eyes, because his world turned around… John… John kissed him.  
"I've always wanted to do this, I love you Sherlock, but this isn't working."  
John let go and Sherlock opened his eyes.  
"Bye Sherlock."

John walked outside.  
Sherlock looked in shock through the room, when he heard a car leaving, he ran outside.  
In the distance the could see the cab driving, John loved him and left.  
This was his fault! He loved John, and now he was gone, and the worst part was…

John loved him.


	6. Chapter 6: When John left

Chapter 6: When John left.

Notes:

This story is un-beta'd, if there are grammar/spelling mistakes, they are my fault.

If you like this story, you can always follow me on my tumblr shippingorange for more news :). 

* * *

"Sherlock! Open the door!"

Sherlock sighed while he hugged the union jack pillow in his arms, it had been a week since John left... he tried to text John… at the end he even tried to call, but John didn't answer.  
"Sherlock, if you don't open it!" Lestrade's voice sounded muffled in the hall.  
"You do what?" he snapped back.

"Call your brother!"  
Sherlock closed his eyes and dragged himself out of the sofa. When he opened the door, a panting Lestrade walked inside.

Lestrade studied Sherlock with a worried face.  
Sherlock's hair was messy, he lost some weight and his eyes were red… had he been… crying?  
"You look terrible, when was the last time you have eaten something?"  
"I have eaten something! John made me something before he..."  
He slumped back into the sofa. "left"

Lestrade made an angry growl. "Ok, that's it! Sherlock that was a week ago! I'm getting sick of this shit! Why don't you go to him, say you're sorry? No, you are too proud! You git!"  
An angry sneer appeared on Sherlock's face.  
"I have called him, at the end I tried to call. You know I hate it to call people, but he doesn't answer. I lost him Lestrade, but not because I'm right about everything… The thing is, I have a secret, and I can't tell him. That's why John is angry! He thought I started to hate him, but I don't. I love him, but I thought that if I told him that I loved him he would hate me."

"Right, like I said Sherlock, you have to get out. Even your speech is messed up. What kind of secret can be so bad that you can't tell John?"  
Sherlock shrugged "I think you know Lestrade, you have seen me. I can't say it if you didn't, but if you know what I'm talking about, you have to tell me."

A sad smile appeared on Lestrade's face, he remembered the day when Sherlock fell into a swimming pool. They were on a case and the victim had been drowned. Mr Chester became unwell in the pool and that was how he drowned. When Sherlock was ready with the case, it seemed that the young wife of Mr Chester committed the murder. "It was not on purpose Sherlock… when you fell into Mr Chester's pool, you grew fins. I thought I was dreaming, the stress of the case you know.  
I hid behind the door in the hope you didn't see me, but you did?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes I did Lestrade. You can't tell John."  
Lestrade settled himself on the other side of the sofa, so it was real. Sherlock was a merman. He closed his eyes to let it in his mind. Sherlock was a merman.  
"You have to tell John, or I will! He deserves better! If you don't tell him… I will"  
Without knowing it, he was shouting and it was weird to see fear on Sherlock's face.  
Sherlock never showed emotions. Ok, sometimes he was angry or annoyed, but scared?

"Please don't, I'll die if you do that. I'm cursed."  
He started to explain how he visited the ocean again, how he met his cousin. How he got cursed.  
Lestrade remained silent. Thinking about his words before he spoke. "Mycroft… So he isn't…"  
"No he isn't" Sherlock confirmed. "I am adopted you see, but now you know that if you or I tell John what I am."  
Lestrede finished Sherlock's sentence "You'll die."  
"Yes." Sherlock's reply was just a whisper.  
Lestrede stroked with his hand through his greying hair. The git loved John, he didn't care about anyone, only John. Sherlock was more bearable with John around, as long as John was around.

"Maybe you don't have to tell him, John is smart. What if you leave him clues?"  
Sherlock's face made an annoyed expression. "That's cheating and I think it's the same as telling him."  
In a whirl Sherlock jumped on his feet. "Oh!" Lestrade didn't know how he did it, but every time Sherlock had an idea, it looked like his eyes were illuminating. "Oh! I need your help! Let's make it an accident! We have to get John back. When he's back, has to make an accident on me! With water! I give in to the transformation and he knows. Off course, I will have to escape first. So I run to the bathroom and he will follow me."  
"So you need me to get John back?" a yawn escaped his mouth when Sherlock took his hands and pulled him up. "Yes."

"No I won't."  
"Why not? Sherlock didn't understand it. He deduced Lestrade's expressions.  
"You want something first."  
Lestrade nodded. "Yes indeed, you'll have to eat before I go. That's my first request, my second is that you have to take a bath. You smell Sherlock! When was the last time that you went into the water?"  
Sherlock opened his mouth but Lestrade answered before he could say something.  
"When John left, am I right?"


	7. Chapter 7: Please John

Chapter 7: Please John

Notes:

Hi, so far we're up to 7 chapters... are you people still with me? Right now I'm uploading all the chapters I have so far (because they were first on AO3).  
This chapter is also un-Betad, but I hope you guys will enjoy it. ;-)

For Sherlock and other fandom posts, you can always visit my tumblr: shippingorange

Enjoy chapter 7

Kind Regards,

ShippingOrange.

* * *

After he pursued Sherlock to take a bath, Lestrade could finally leave Baker street.

He wanted to be sure that Sherlock took his bath, and to be honest… he wanted a confirmation that he hadn't been dreaming when he discovered that Sherlock was a real merman.  
It was a little awkward to see the detective strip, but it was even crazier to see him transform.  
Sherlock's legs looked like they were melting, scales covered his skin and before Lestrade could take a proper look at how the consulting detective became a merman, the transformation was over.

He sighed at the memory, and realized that he had arrived at John's temporary home.  
He used an old copper door knocker to knock on the wooden door. After he waited a little, he could hear footsteps approaching in the distance. When John opened the door, his face looked surprised, and shocked at the same time.  
" Lestrade" he said with a little surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" the detective inspector asked.  
John stepped aside to let him pass. "Be my guest."

* * *

When he was inside John's new flat, Lestrade studied the place. The living room, was the only room so it also functioned as John's bedroom. He had to admit: It looked horrible.  
"Nice flat" he said.  
John sighed. "No it isn't, it's awful here, but it's the only place that I could afford. I would like to go back you know."  
"Then go back" Lestrade answered.  
John let out a humorous laugh. "You know I can't! Sherlock made it clear, he doesn't want me there."  
Lestrade shook his head. "I've seen him this morning, he hadn't eaten for days, and don't let me talk about his personal hygiene. To be honest, he looked horrible John. He doesn't show it to people, but he's lost without you."

John made a pained face. "He's keeping secrets Lestrade, he doesn't trust me! Why would he need me? What is friendship if you can't trust each other?"  
"No John!" said Lestrade with a clear voice. "This isn't about trust, he wants to tell you his secret, but his problem is… He can't.  
John looked up suspiciously. "You know his secret? That bastard told you his secret? He doesn't trust me, but he told you."  
Lestrade didn't know how to reply, he had to get John back, but he just made it worse.  
John paced furious around the room.  
"No John… OK yes, I know it, but he didn't told me!" He closed his eyes. "I found it out by accident, he discovered it today that I know about his secret." Lestrade knew that John was thinking about his words, biting on his upper lip.  
"I can't go back… to know he has a secret and he can't tell me what it is. It even makes it worse that you know what it is, but he can't tell me. I'm his best friend… or I was. He knows everything about me, but I don't know a thing about him. God I even kissed him!"  
Raw anger and pain spread over John's face. "I'm his only friend!"  
Now he understood, John was not only Sherlock's best friend, he loved Sherlock, but he didn't know Sherlock loved him. Now he knew why John felt so betrayed.  
"John" Lestrade said softly "He wants to share his secret with you. He loves you, even I can see he does. The problem is, if he speaks about it to anyone, he dies.  
The only way to know his secret, is to discover the truth on your own. Like I did."

John shook his head in confusion. "That doesn't make any sense. Is there someone who wants to kill him?"  
Lestrade gave no answer, but he stared at John with a worried expression.  
John licked his lips. "Ok… Ok, I will go back to Baker street, but how will I explain the kiss? Oh my god, I really kissed him!"  
Lestrade smiled. "Don't worry about the kiss John… but I want you to know I had a conversation with Sherlock to find a way to show you his secret."  
He rubbed his hand through his silver hair before he continued to speak.  
"Find a way to show you, but also to let him live. Sherlock's says that with practice you can be smart, that you can use your deduction skills, but that you have to work on it."  
Lestrade's words became fiercer, because he really wanted this to work.  
"Try to study his manners John! His words, the things he likes, the things he hates, everything."  
John held his hands up in a reassuring gesture. "Ok… Ok, I got it"  
A first real smile appeared on John's face. "Let's go back to Baker street… to Sherlock."


	8. Chapter 8: Don't go

Chapter 8: Don't go

Notes:

Oh my god... I'm a horrible person.

ps. this chapter is also un-betad

* * *

Lestrades' car was driving through London.  
John looked outside the window, his thoughts were far away. He was going back to Sherlock.  
"John?"  
He looked up and saw that Lestrade gave him a little smile.  
"Remember, you say nothing to Sherlock. Every word you say about his secret can kill him."  
John nodded. "I remember, I have to find out."

Lestrade's phone rang, he reached in his left trouser pocket and handled the phone to John.  
"John, can you answer it, I'm driving."  
John took the phone and looked at the little screen, Donovan was calling. "Hello, this is John Watson, Lestrade is driving."  
"John?" She said with a worried voice. "Can you tell Lesrade to come to Tate Modern, it's urgent… We've found another body. John, tell him to drop you off at Baker Street. We don't want you bragging around." Worried, yeah right, she just wanted to get rid of him. "Ok, fine" he replied.  
"Ok, goodbye John."

With an annoyed look he gave the phone to Lestrade. "It was Donovan, they have found another body. We'll have to go to Tate Modern."  
Lestrade gave a little nod. "Ok, text Sherlock to meet us there."  
John smiled, knowing that Sherlock wouldn't be bored.

They arrived fifteen minutes later, the New Scotland Yard had already closed the place down.  
John followed Lestrade inside, he wanted to follow Lestrade, but Donovan stopped him.  
"John, what are you doing here? I told you to go home."  
She looked concerned… what was weird.  
John cleared his throat. "Lestrade gave me permission to join him, Sherlock is also coming so, sod off."  
He walked past her in the direction Lestrade had went.  
Donovan followed him. "No John you really…"  
Her voice went silent when he saw the body. His world was spinning around, the body on the ground was like the other bodies. His legs were gone, and it had cuts in his neck.

He felt Lestrade's arms around him, trying to drag him away from the scene.  
The body was Sherlock Holmes.


	9. Chapter 9: What?

Chapter 9: What?

Notes:

This chapter is also un-betad :).  
Please, tell me the spelling, grammar mistakes in this story because English is not my native language :).

Enjoy :).

* * *

John looked at the manhandled body of his best friend, it was the fall all over again. Loneliness, defeat, his will to live, it all came back.

Defeated he fell on his knees, desperate whine escaped his throat, this wasn't real. "Sherlock" he whispered.  
He looked at the body of his best friend, the person he loved most, the person he killed for.  
Sherlock was death, and it was his fault. Why did he leave baker street? He left Sherlock and now the killer took him away before he could make it up.  
Lestrade tried to get him up again. "John, c'mon you can't stay here."  
"No" he whispered "Please no."  
In a trance he followed Lestrade who took him by the hand, led him outside the museum and into his car.

Mindless he looked outside the window.  
Sherlock was dead.  
Sherlock was dead.  
Sherlock was dead.  
SHERLOCK WAS DEAD.

Tears rolled over his cheeks. How did this happen? Why was Sherlock there? What was he doing there?  
Sherock…

Lestrade lay his hand softly on Johns' arm. They were back at Baker Street.  
"We are here, let's go inside John."  
His voice trembled. "I can't. I left him there Lestrade."  
He swallowed and rested his head on his hands. "I left him, and now he's dead."

Lestrade stepped out of the car, walked to John's side and opened the door.  
"Let's go inside John. I'll make you some tea and…"  
John's head snapped up, a rage of anger flooded through him. "I don't want your bloody tea! Sherlock is dead and the only thing you can think about is stupid tea!"  
Lestrade's face went serious. "You are a mess John, let's go inside."  
"Can you guys stop shouting? It disturbs my thinking."  
John and Lestrade glanced in an almost comical way at the front door of 221B, a very annoyed and very alive Sherlock Holmes was looking like them.

"You bastard." John shouted when he jumped out of the car and almost ran to Sherlock. "You stupid, horrible bastard!"  
Sherlock opened his mouth and closed it again, for the first time in his life the great detective was speechless.  
John's fist came into contact with his perfect cheekbones. "You… horrible… git!"  
John became angrier by the astonished look on Sherlock's face. "Is this another weird experiment, it must be a joke for you right. The let's see how we many times we can mess John up joke!"  
Sherlock's face stayed serious. "About what are you talking John?" He looked at Lestrade who was staring at him like he had seen a ghost.  
"We have seen you dead Sherlock. Your legs were removed from your body and there were cuts in your throat."

"Let me see the body." The detective answered.  
John glared at Sherlock. "You mean… you didn't know?"  
Sherlock let out an annoyed sigh. "No off course I didn't. I'm good in deducing John, I can't read your mind to see what happened. Yes I know you were angry, confused and shocked. You had seen something horrible."  
John pulled the detective close, he felt Sherlock stiffen in his embrace. "I thought I lost you." He muttered in Sherlock's ear.  
"I thought you died before I could say for the second time that I really love you Sherlock Holmes."  
Sherlock relaxed in his embrace. John's eyes met the beautiful eyes of Sherlock. Those eyes that looked like a storm at sea. Puddles of ocean grey.  
He brought his face closer to that of the detectives', and their lips met each other. John closed his eyes and invaded Sherlock's mouth.  
Slowly they explored each other's, first slowly, very fragile, very new.  
When they departed from their kiss, he opened his eyes to see that Sherlock's' were still closed.

Carefully he stroked his hand through Sherlock's curls.  
"Let's go to see the body, I'm interested to know who he is."  
Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled, it was one of those smiles that he only saved for John. "A body that looks like mine, very interesting indeed."


	10. Chapter 10: I will still love you

Chapter 10: I will still love you

Notes:

Now were even with my AO3, the next chapter will be up today or tomorrow :).

* * *

After he got his belstaff coat, Sherlock took a cab to the crime scene.

Lestrade told him he could join him in his car, but he just wanted to be alone with John.

He studied John with his ocean eyes. John was tucked near the window, pretending to look outside. He failed miserably, because he could see the secretive glances that he gave Sherlock through the reflection of the window.

"John."

John's head turned to him.

"Sherlock?"

He came closer, their noses almost touching.

Not sure how to react he closed his eyes and caught John's lips.

Their second kiss was more passionate, he felt John leaning into the kiss, their tongues dancing around each other. If he didn't had to breath, he would stay like this for ever. Breathing was boring indeed! Out of breath they departed.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "John, that was good." He didn't know how to react at feelings. It was good. It felt good.

John smiled. "That was good indeed." There was an affectionate twinkling in his eyes, when he caught Sherlock's lips again.

* * *

Donovan's eyes went huge when Sherlock entered the crime scene. "Is this some kind of a sick joke?"  
Sherlock ignored her, and tried to make his way to the body when she blocked him. "Answer me freak!"  
Sherlock let out an annoyed sigh "I just found out about the body, let me through so that I can examine it." Without giving her a second glare, he marched to the body. The person on the ground looked exactly like him, he couldn't be the guy who was working for Moriarty, his body was found in a sewer.  
"Male, around the age of thirty seven, unmarried,…"  
"And looks exactly like you." John interrupted.  
Before John could ask more questions, Sherlock walked over to Lestrade "I need to take a DNA sample."

Lestrade bit on his lip, and shrugged "Sherlock, you know what this is already." He whispered it hard enough that John could eavesdrop, but quiet so that the rest couldn't hear it. "They are like you Sherlock, we took samples from the last bodies."  
"You didn't! You gave the DNA of those people to a complete stranger? What if the world finds out?"  
"Calm down Sherlock." Lestrade answered. "The person who researched the bodies was Molly Hooper, even if she notices something weird, she wouldn't tell it."  
Molly of course she wouldn't, he had trusted her with his life. "Meet me at Barts, for once you are right Lestrade, someone is targeting my people."

* * *

After Sherlock took some DNA from the body, John followed him into a silent cab ride to St. Barts.

"So…" He looked at Sherlock who was still researching the DNA under the microscope. "Do you feel like sharing information?"

When Sherlock didn't answer he continued, he knew that Lestrade had warned him about Sherlock and secrets, but he also knew that the bodies had to do something with Sherlock's past.  
"Sherlock, I know that this body has something to do with you, you can tell me, or I have to find it out myself."  
He sighed. "I'm worried Sherlock, this could have been you, it…" Sherlock terminated his train of thoughts and worries before he could become angry again. "Shut up John, you know that I can't tell you, but I can tell you something."  
Sherlock abandoned the microscope and closed the distance between their bodies.  
"It's just that I never loved someone before, before you I didn't do feelings. Now that I gave in to my feelings for you, I'm scared that you would leave me." He closed his eyes and swallowed. "I would leave me, I'm a freak after all. Why do you love me John?"

John pressed a kiss on Sherlock's lips. "You are no freak Sherlock Holmes, you are the most brilliant man that I know. Whatever your secret is, I will still love you."  
"How can I know that for sure John?"  
John gave him a smile. "Deduce it."

* * *

John couldn't believe his eyes when Sherlock explained him a part of his life story, and how more he thought about it, how more he realised that he didn't really knew Sherlock.  
It was hurting him a little, knowing that his best friend and sort of boyfriend Sherlock had another life before he became a Holmes.  
Sherlock was adopted.  
Off course it made some sense… why he hated Mycroft so much, sometimes they didn't behave like brothers at all.  
Sherlock claimed that Mycroft saw him as an intruder, but when John asked where he came from, he went silent.

John carefully approached the subject of the body. "Sherlock, you just told me about being you adopted, just answer me… Is that body is related to you?"  
He braced himself, because he sort of knew already what Sherlock was going to answer.

"Yes he is John. I didn't know it for sure, that's why I needed the DNA.  
I thought he was dead, a long time ago someone told me my whole family died."

Sherlock brought his hands to his face like a prayer. "John, the body that the yard found was my twin brother."


	11. Chapter 11: Stay away

Chapter 11: Stay away

Notes: Here we are again, with another chapter. The mistakes are mine to blame.  
Don't be pissed :p. Also, thank you Myridinn, Darkness_Angels and angelbaby731 for the sweet/ nice/ awesome comments, it really helps me to write this fic.

* * *

The next day John went out to Tesco's, because in his absence Sherlock didn't buy any food and he really needed some milk for his tea.  
He was in deep thought when he noticed a black car following him. Damn you Mycroft, he really didn't need this now.  
He decided to ignore the car for a while, but instead it started to slow down next to him.

John closed his eyes in annoyance and turned to the black bulletproof window.  
"Mycroft! Really, can't you just, I don't know… ring, pay a visit!" He shouted when a familiar woman opened the door.  
"Can't he just… call or something?" he asked to Andrea, because that really was her name. Sherlock liked to rub it in that she gave him a fake name. So far for three continents Watson.  
"Just get inside John." She answered.  
John went with a sigh into the car. "Any idea where we are going?"

She smiled. "Yes"  
"You probably are not going to tell me, right?"  
"No" Andrea answered.  
"Why does he have to be such a drama queen?" he muttered under his breath.

* * *

John stepped out of the car and noticed he was in the empty parking lot, with an annoyed sigh he walked to Mycroft who was trying to look superior with his umbrella.  
He knew that this was about Sherlock, what else would it be?  
"Why am I here Mycroft? You know where I live, you can visit me, you know… like a normal person."  
A stiff smile appeared on Mycroft's face. "I want you to stay away from Sherlock Holmes."

John let out a small laugh. "It's it going to be like that again? You can't be serious?"  
He shook his head and looked Mycroft in the eye. "You know that's not going to happen."  
Mycroft's eyes were piercing into Johns. "Even when I tell you that his life is in danger? There are people after him John, turn away from this now you still can."

John felt assaulted by Mycroft's words, he looked at the man that was leaning on his umbrella. Why was something like this happening? Mycroft knew that he would protect Sherlock, that he was his best friend and more!  
"I won't stay away from him. Sherlock's life was in danger before and you know how that ended. I don't want that again, if something is happening I'll protect him. This time I'm going to be with him."

Mycroft let out a sigh. "I know you would say this John, I also know what he told you. You have to stay out of his past. If you want Sherlock to live, you turn around and leave Baker Street."  
It was almost a whisper that escaped John's mouth. "No"  
Mycroft closed his eyes and looked to his feet in deep thought, when he looked back to John, his eyes were full of anger and… hurt?  
"Leave him John, you know it's the only way. When you are gone, he will abandon that crazy case. You are his life, now it's your moment to save him."

John let out a sarcastic huff. "You can't be kidding me! He just discovered that his long lost twin brother was murdered. You aren't even his real brother. Sherlock was in danger before, but I shall always be there to help him."

Mycroft made a small nod. "That murder is the reason why he has to stay away from it. Someone is looking for him John, it has to do something with what he is and his past. If the murderer sees Sherlock, he will go after him.  
Maybe I'm not his real brother, but I still care for him."  
John considered Mycroft's words, he really did… but he couldn't leave Sherlock. If the murderer killed Sherlock's twin, it was just a moment of time that the killer would find Sherlock.  
"I'm sorry Mycroft, but I can't. He needs me."

A pitiful smile crept over Mycroft's face. "Like I said, I knew you would say this. That's why this is for the good of both of you. He cares for you John, he will search for you."  
Mycroft took a little device out of his pocket and pushed the single red button on it.  
"Mission Ocean born is in working. I was hoping that I could avoid this."  
John felt a sting in his neck, he turned around to see Andrea who was standing there with a tranquilizer dart gun. The world around him went dizzy, when he fell on the floor, the last thing he saw was Mycroft standing above him, moving his lips. He was saying something, but he couldn't hear the words.

With Sherlock in his thoughts, the world went black.


	12. Chapter 12: Deep thought

Chapter 12: Deep thought

Notes: I'm writing in class... I should be studying... paying attention... but, yeah, this was important. Maybe there will be a second chapter today (because class is boring and this is a good opportunity to write :D) So here is the next chapter, it's short and it's unbetad' so don't kill me when you see mistakes, tell me and I will correct it :).

* * *

John woke up with a heavy feeling in his head. Sherlock… That's right, and Mycroft, that bastard!

Dizziness was swirling in his mind when he stood up from a big bed with fluffy pillows and blankets.  
Disorientated he looked around in the room, it was a nice room. The room had sand coloured wallpaper with a wooden floor.  
The one thing that was missing were the windows.

What did Mycroft say again? Too tired of the drug he fell back on the bed.  
He had to escape, but now he had to sleep first.

* * *

Sherlock was thinking, not just thinking, more like searching. Searching through his mind palace. Searching for deleted memories.  
He had a twin brother, he could remember it, but the memories were vague. Vague memories of a vague past.  
Now that he searched in his past, he remembered flashes of his real parents, the moment he returned, the curse, how everything felt weird.

He never felt like a merman, when he was a child he loved to go away from the waves.  
Let himself dry up and search for things on the sand.  
Until his other parents found him, a chance to get away, a chance to be less boring, to be a human, but humans were boring too.  
The only one who wasn't boring was John and he didn't count. John was John, not just a boring human.

People were murdered, merpeople, and he could be the next one. When he was hunting for the killer, he was being hunted too.  
Maybe he was the next victim. He remembered how John looked when he thought that he was dead.  
The grief and anger on his face, how he thought that this was a sick joke… again.

John should know his secret. He never tried out the curse, he didn't dare to do it, but he was sure that John would hate him.  
If he was hunted, John would never know. John would hate him, and that was why he had to tell his secret to John.  
John loved him, but it was better to die than to live like this.  
If someone had told him he would have feelings like this, he would have laughed.  
Feelings were for sentimental people, but this was for John, only John.

He slowly leaved his mind palace, when he opened his eyes and looked around in the bathroom, he noticed that the bathwater was cold; How long had he been thinking? He moved his grey, silver, blue-ish tail out of the way to reach the plug.  
The bad was getting empty, but it was too slow, he had to talk with John immediately.

Clouded by his past, he looked at how the water was seeping away.


End file.
